


Skeletons of the Past

by MaeaStorm



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Death of a Parental Figure, Krogan Has Failing Mental Health, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Redemption, get this man a therapist seriously, please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeaStorm/pseuds/MaeaStorm
Summary: Krogan’s always been aloof. He never shows anyone his emotions, because he’s scared of what people will think of him if he does. However, when an accident with his dragon leaves him in the hands of the Dragon Riders he finds himself coming to a difficult conclusion, and he doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Kudos: 1





	Skeletons of the Past

The wind whipped around Krogan’s head, as he and Basil wheeled around, circling Hiccup and his Night Fury, a hard, unforgiving scowl marking his face. In the weeks that this little war had been going on, Krogan had started to slip. His walls were cracking, and despite however many times he tried to reseal them, they only grew larger cracks.

His cruelty on the battlefield had increased exponentially. He was growing more brash and frenzied to kill and get this over with so he wouldn’t have the thoughts of betraying his Master and being a bad dog filling his head. 

Hiccup locked eyes with him, as the rain pelted down on their shoulders. Krogan bared his teeth, and urged Basil to fire. 

The Singetail missed again, and the Night Fury fired back in retaliation. Krogan screamed in anger and pain, as the blast sent him and his dragon falling to the island below them.

When Krogan opens his eyes again, he’s in a burnt-out forest; one that was long dead, and had been covered in a thick layer of old ash. 

He sat up, wiping himself free of any ash, and he stood, the grass squishing softly underneath his feet, unburnt by the heat that once blazed across the now vine-strewn hollow shells of trees.

The man looked around, and he hissed in rage, gritting his teeth. Worry clouds his head however, as he noted that Basil wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Huffing, Krogan took off in a slow jog towards what looked to be a clearing in the distance.

The dragon riders had split up in their search for Krogan- Fishlegs with Snotlout, Ruffnut with Astrid; which Ruffnut had told them was because she needed some time away from Tuffnut, so, that meant Hiccup was stuck with the twin. 

Fishlegs shook his head at the sound of yelling in the distance from Tuffnut.

“When they’re making that kind of noise, none of us will find him,” Snotlout growled, while Fishlegs chuckled, never looking up from the set of fresh footprints in the old ash from a pair of dainty feet.

The scenery around Krogan began to shift slightly- the trees were becoming thinner, and bricks were occasionally scattered around with a torched wooden plank strewn in. 

“Basil!” Krogan called softly, looking away from in front of him with a frown. The shattered remains of a well are to his right, and a skeleton- a  _ human _ skeleton is propped against it, wearing all too familiar armor. 

Krogan sniffed the air, a sense of unease pooling in his stomach.

This place smelled like death. 

The man stepped towards the remains, his legs shaking slightly. The bones are stained a dull grey from the ash that had once fallen from the sky. 

He reaches out, before he froze. 

Buried in what would have been the corpse’s stomach is a small, rusty knife with a handle wrapped in bleached leather. 

Shakily, he grasped onto it, and glanced around. A bucket is discarded not too far away from him, its wooden frame rotting and disintegrating from the elements. 

He looked back at the knife. In the leather, there’s a pair of letters inscribed into it- KI. 

_ The little boy dragged the bucket to the well, grunting and hissing with the effort of hauling it around. He was tall for his age, but his thin, gangly arms and legs made him weak and clumsy. _

_ Momma had said to go get water to help with their neighbor’s house. It was on fire.  _

_ A twig snapped, and the little boy twisted around, the bucket rolling to a stop at the foot of the well, as a man who towered over him, wearing armor and toting a sword stepped into the clearing.  _

_ “Wha’s a little thing like you doing all alone by yerself?” the man crooned dangerously. The boy took out his knife, holding it out at the man. _

_ “You stay away from me!” He yelped. The man chuckled, and tried to grab him.  _

_ The little boy ducked, spun around, and drove the knife as deep as he could into the man’s stomach, before he bolted. _

_ The sky was on fire ahead of him. _

Krogan dropped the knife, horror swelling in his chest, as he glared up at the village he knew had to be up ahead of him.

_ ‘Momma I’m coming! _ ’

Meatlug sniffed at the air, her nose wrinkling, and Fishlegs frowned, watching both Snotlout’s and his own dragon whine. Something was wrong here. If the dragon’s could smell something that was making them nervous, then maybe it would be best to investigate.

Fishlegs continued, until Snotlout pointed out the skeleton leaning against the well.

A knife was not far away from it, but its rusty, ash-covered hilt was interrupted by a set of fingerprints.

Krogan could smell the burning flesh when he skidded to a stop, frantically looking around himself at the burned wreckage of the buildings.

“Mom?” He called, a panic thrumming deep inside his chest. 

Children, transparent and happy rushed around him, almost knocking him over, as the burnt-out buildings exploded with life- people buying apples and fruit and other goods, and the laughing giggles of children playing with each other. 

Krogan forces himself into a run, trying to escape the madness.

_ The sky turns black, and golden embers begin to dance from the sky, burning at his lungs. _

_ Krogan hears the people screaming, but he pays no attention to the skeletons of the people around him, as he weaves his way through the panicked cries of the dying population, and the clashing of metal against metal. _

_ “MOM!” Krogan slams the brittle door off of its hinges, and it drops to the ground with a loud clatter. _

_ He looked around, and then, he spotted the curled body on the floor. Men rush around him, and the woman yells, _

_ “DON’T YOU HURT HIM!” She protectively cradled the little boy to her chest, and Krogan found himself screaming, as the woman dropped to the ground, her throat slit. _

_ The warmth of her arms around him is fading, as the boy is dragged out away from his mother, kicking and screaming.  _

_ “NO! NO! MOMMA! HELP ME! HELP ME!” The boy’s cries do nothing to the men.  _

Krogan dropped to the ground in front of the skeleton, his eyes beginning to water. 

“Momma, I’m home,” He whispered. “Please wake up! I’m back, please! I’m here!” His eyes begin to water, and his breath hitches. 

The skeleton does nothing, and the rain, having stopped previously, was back, pelting at his back from the hole in the roof.

“Mom!” Krogan wailed, trying to shake the body awake. Then, he screamed in terror, as the bones clattered apart. 

Tears are now crawling freely down his cheeks, and he’s wailing loudly, the rain soaking him, but he doesn’t care.

_ The blood staining his skin from his mother’s cooling body makes him slippery and hard to hold.  _

_ “MOMMY!” He yelled, “WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME! I WANT MY-” _

_ “SHUT UP!” Krogan is slapped across the face hard enough that he’s sent stumbling to the ground. He wailed, and dropped to the ground. _

The rain was making the ground turn into mud beneath the two dragon rider’s feet, as they continued to follow the footsteps. 

Above the sound of the rain, was a noise so soft, Fishlegs thought he was hearing it at first- crying. 

“Hey, Snotlout?” He called to the other with him, who looked up boredly. 

“Yeah?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Do you hear that?” Fishlegs began trying to follow the noise, although with the rain it was hard to pinpoint where exactly the noise was coming from.

“What noi-” 

A distressed wail ripped through the air, interrupting Snotlout.

They looked at one another, and then, they were running towards the noise without a second thought. They ended up in front of another hut; one that didn’t look too different from the others, except that its door had been forced to the floor, and a quavering form was curled up in front of something that looked oddly like… bones.

At the sound of their footsteps, another sharp yell cracked through the air, and the form stiffened, turning around to reveal it was Krogan. 

His eyes were swollen and puffy, and he was trembling like a leaf, his clothes thoroughly soaked, and his hair slathered across his head in a mess of black curls. Mud clung to his fingers, and he looked like he’d been rolling in mud and ash, as he was covered in both of the substances. 

“Get-  _ GET AWAY FROM ME _ !” He yelled, his voice not sounding angry, no, it cracked and broke from fear. 

Fishlegs stepped in first, eyeing what was behind Krogan for a moment- definitely bones. Human ones at that. Something was wrong here.

Did Krogan somehow know this person?

“Hey, you’re alright,” He leaned down. Krogan gives a loud wail, and reaches out behind him, towards the bones, which are, now that Fishlegs is closer to them, definitely that of a woman.

“Momma, please,” the words are barely a whisper, but they inject the frozen ice of cold realization into Fishlegs’s veins nonetheless; Krogan’s tone is that of a scared little boy. “Why won’t you wake up?” 

The bones that had been by the well had worn armor, not like any of the other men’s bones that were scattered around the village. 

This wasn’t a dragon attack that did this. 

One of the shoulders on Krogan’s shirt began to slip off from how wet he was, showing off the top of an old, old scar: a brand. It was white as bone, and all Fishlegs could pick out was the tops of a dragon’s horns.

The young man held out his arms, trying to be placating.

Krogan glanced back at the bones, and then at Fishlegs, before he arched his back, hissing like a feral cat, as he bared his teeth, open-mouthed. 

Fishlegs stood up, and slowly began to approach. Krogan was distressed, and was trying to intimidate him; he’d seen this tactic plenty of times with hatchlings, but never in humans.

Once he was close enough, Fishlegs wrapped his arms in a gentle hug around Krogan’s arms, pinning them to his sides. 

The man screeched, writhing in his grasp, quickly going back to terrified sobbing, while he tried to bite at Fishlegs’s neck and shoulder. Fishlegs, however, gently rubbed his fingers along Krogan’s spine, trying to soothe his squirming.

Krogan’s hiccups in between his sobs, and he surprises Fishlegs, by burying his head in the other’s chest. His trembles only increase. 

‘ _ He must be cold, _ ’ Fishlegs mused internally. ‘ _ Too bad I don’t have any blankets. _ ’ 

“Shhh, you’re okay,” Fishlegs mumbled, as the sound of Snotlout’s footsteps echoed behind him.

“Should I go get the others or….?” The young man whispered, and Fishlegs looked up at him.

He nodded, and then Snotlout turned around, moving to get on Hookfang, and then take off. Fishlegs, however, moved back away from the hole in the roof so Krogan could get out of the rain. 

Fishlegs looked around the hut, before he slowly stood up, cradling Krogan to his chest- quite the feat, as he was a lot taller than him; but Krogan didn’t seem to care about the shift.

Fishlegs gazed around, looking for something- anything he could use as a blanket. 

The hut was small, but it had a passageway that led into a room smothered in shadows. Fishlegs frowned, and he turned around, looking for Meatlug, finding the gronkle curled up in an area where she wouldn’t get wet. 

When he spotted her, her ears perked up, and she stood, padding over to him.

“Can I get a little bit of light, girl?” He asked, and she opened her mouth, letting a gentle glow of light wash into the darkness beyond.

He stepped into the room, relieved that it’s untouched by ash and fire. There’s a room off to the side, and as Fishlegs steps into it, he realizes it was a room for a little boy. 

A bear fur blanket is draped across the bed in the far corner, and he hears Krogan whine sharply, squirming in his grasp. 

“Krogan,” Fishlegs soothed. “Stop, I’m going to drop you,” Krogan doesn’t listen, instead reaching his hand out towards something in the darkness. Fishlegs walked up to the bed, and Krogan snatched something off of it, sending a puff of soot into the air. 

Krogan shifts, hugging the item to his chest. It’s soft, so Fishlegs supposes it’s a stuffed toy. 

“I’m going to put you down, okay?” He muttered into Krogan’s ear, and Krogan only nodded. Fishlegs smiled, lifting the covers of the bed, and laying Krogan on it., before he wrapped the man as tightly as possible in the fur blanket. 

Krogan gives a shaky breath, his eyes glittering in the dim light. Meatlug padded into the room, settling down next to Fishlegs. 

Krogan yawned, and eventually rolled over onto his side, drifting off to sleep, while Fishlegs sat, listening to the rain, and waiting for the others to arrive. 


End file.
